Chapter 14 #2
Lady Mortimer assumed a spot on the vacated sofa.
Georgina studied her and decided she did have a rather prim air, particularly for a setting such as this. “Lottie, please fetch my dear friend something to drink.”
Lottie, her mouth set in a tight line, obliged Georgina’s request. She fetched a glass, thumped it down onto the table, filled it with wine, and slammed the flagon down beside it with enough force that its contents shuddered. She shoved the glass towards Lady Mortimer with a fierce glare.
Georgina grinned as Lady Mortimer accepted the glass with a tentative hand. Had Lottie possessed a poisonous tincture conven-iently to hand, Georgina thought she would have slipped it into Lady Mortimer’s drink, such was her evident annoyance at her interruption.
“Thank you, Lottie. Give us the room, will you?”
With an audible huff, the damsel swept away from them, a cascade of apricot-coloured hair trailing behind her.
“I have the impression you may find yourself severely berated once I take my leave,” Lady Mortimer mused.
“She will not see me again today. I will be held in contempt for at least a day or two. How may I help you? Your presence tonight puzzles me.”
“Your most amiable butler Jarvis provided me with your destination. I went to call upon you after I visited Solitaires,” Lady Mortimer began, her voice slow and pointed.
Georgina stiffened and took a sip, but continued to watch Lady Mortimer over her glass. “You are a frequent visitor there, my lady.”
Lady Mortimer’s expression was inscrutable. “I might remark the same about yourself, Miss Pace. I have seen you there almost as often as I have been there, of late. You might imagine my surprise when I overheard the proprietor describing you in some rather colourful terms this evening.”
Georgina put her glass down and leaned forward confidentially. “Is that so? Tell me more. Have I caused a scandal?”
A smile hovered around Lady Mortimer’s mouth. “I am not sure I would call it a scandal yet. Though it seems you have been up to some mischief. Can it be you have turned into a thief, my dear?”
A knot formed in her throat, mortified at what Lady Mortimer must think of her. However, she quashed it immediately and mustered a lighthearted tone.
“Lud, yes! You have discovered my secret. I am nothing better than a common housebreaker.”
Lady Mortimer traced the fine carvings of her crystal tumbler. Her gray eyes glinted in the firelight. A delicate muscle in her forearm tensed, then released. “There is nothing common about you, Miss Pace.”
“I am a thief.”
“So I gathered following the Blakes’s ball.”
“You did see me.”
“I did. We have all been young and headstrong.” Lady Mortimer’s mouth quivered.
“No, no need to bristle at me, girl. You are yet young, compared to me. Arguably, you should be past petty crime at your age, though I commend you on your passion for assisting -others. Though I am curious about why you have resorted to theft. You do not strike me as impoverished.”
Georgina, tempted to take umbrage, found herself full of mirth instead.
It was difficult to be annoyed when Lady Mortimer had a point and was so deliberate in making it.
She did not seem put out that Georgina had committed a crime.
Nor that it involved Mrs Gardner. Plus, there was the intriguing question of age—an older woman?
The Countess was going up in Georgina’s estimation once more.
At this moment, two naked bodies partially emerged from a nearby alcove. Apparently, in the fervour of their lovemaking, the couple had slipped to the floor. Their entwined bodies moved together unbridled, and their moans heightened as they approached their climax.
Mem Lavigne appeared from nowhere and pulled the curtain around the sweating bodies, lost in their ecstasy. Groans and cries signalling their peak echoed from behind the drapes. Mem Lavigne cast a smile towards Lady Mortimer, who remained composed throughout.
Indeed, her ladyship was full of surprises. Georgina had half--expected her to flee the room. She was tempted to ask the Countess what she made of the show, but instead she cleared her throat.
Georgina ignored her question. “Please tell me what Mrs -Gardner’s colourful words were. Is everyone talking about it?”
“I am loath to disappoint you, my little thief, but no. Mrs Gardner was in a rare form after receiving your letter. Fortunately for your reputation, I chanced to be nearby, and she confided her grievances to me rather than all her other guests.”
Georgina sat back against the couch again. “I was not worried about my reputation. She can say what she likes. I do not care a jot for her opinion or anyone else’s.”
“Indeed, of course not. Though I think you’ll find that there is a vast difference between your current reputation and being branded a thief. That would be … regrettable.”
Georgina lifted her chin in defiance. What did it matter to Lady Mortimer what the world thought of her?
“And do you care so much about my reputation?” Georgina prompted.
“Not really.”
Georgina struggled to understand why she could not provoke a more explicit response from Lady Mortimer.
“Fear not. I shall cease my thieving ways.”
“And will you give me the spoils of your thievery?” Lady Mortimer prompted.
“You are priggish,” Georgina exclaimed, sympathising with Colt.
Lady Mortimer’s brow furrowed, and Georgina clapped a hand over her mouth.
“I mean, no. I shall return Mrs Gardner’s possessions once -Arthur’s vowels are safely back in his hands.”
Lady Mortimer’s lips parted. “So, Julia has the vowels of a friend of yours?”
Georgina nodded. “The vowels belong to Mr Arthur Coombes. It happens he is a miris, and a charmingly na?ve fellow. She should not have permitted him to write IOUs, let alone encouraged him, and under predatory terms. Solitaires is extremely disreputable. The faro box is merely an example of the many tricks they employ. I offered to pay for the value of the vowels, including interest, and yet she would not relinquish them. I can only deduce that there are unknown factors at play preventing her from doing so. But who is behind it, I cannot say.”
Lady Mortimer’s expression had hardened, her lips forming a tight line. “Only say the word, and I promise to have them restored to your hands.”
Georgina frowned, recalling the night of the Blakes’s ball, when she had overheard the two women talking.
She did not want to be responsible for complicating this matter further.
“I appreciate the offer, but this is my undertaking.” They sat in silence for a moment.
“Are you so familiar with Mrs Gardner that you would become invested in this matter?”
“I have been acquainted with her for many years and would merely like to avoid unnecessary conflict.”
Something about Lady Mortimer’s calm dignity both troubled and intrigued Georgina.
She demonstrated strong views, and yet she never displayed outright censure.
Her mild temperament suggested both wisdom and worldliness.
She exercised impeccable restraint over her emotions, never displaying anger.
Though for all this arcadian gentility, Lady Mortimer also had a level of playfulness about her.
At times, she presented a serious demeanour and yet remained composed in the face of a couple fucking on the floor beside her.
She was an original. And what was she doing calling on Mrs Gardner at that time of the night?
Really, for Georgina to understand what she was up to, she would have to get to know her better.
Standing, Georgina went to the decanter and refilled her glass. She sauntered back over to Lady Mortimer and topped up her drink. She replaced the bottle and returned, this time sitting on the sofa beside Lady Mortimer.
“You don’t mind if I call you Elizabeth, do you?” Georgina said, swivelling on the seat so they could see each other better.
Elizabeth’s brows rose in surprise. “I do not mind.”
“Now, pray tell me, how do you mean to reform me?” Georgina quizzed.
“I sense that is your intention. Not only am I insufferably cavalier about the feelings of my young admirers as you told me last night, but my character is sadly unsteady and reckless. And I am a thief. Something must be done. I look forward to you reining me in.”
“It is not my place to reproach or correct you.”
Elizabeth’s expression continued to be difficult to read.
“Then you might guide me. You shall lead by example,” Georgina told her in a level voice. “Shall we begin tomorrow?”
With a laugh, Elizabeth replied, “Sadly, I have plans already for tomorrow. I must attend a meeting at Somerset House with the Royal Academy.”
“I note you have not invited me to join you.”
Elizabeth’s cheeks coloured a little. “You might come, though I suspect you would be entirely bored.”
“I should not be at all bored,” Georgina promised. “Let me join you?”
“If you wish,” Elizabeth capitulated, looking a trifle harried. “I shall collect you on my way to the Strand at eleven o’clock.”
“Eleven. Goodness, you are scarcely leaving me time to sleep.”
“I cannot change my plans, Miss Pace. Perhaps we can attend to your nocturnal fulfilment another night.”
A thrill of anticipation bubbled inside Georgina at her reference to their playful missives. Elizabeth had finally flirted with her.
Elizabeth rose, ready to take her leave.
“Where are you going?”
“Home …”
Once again, Elizabeth retreated the moment things were getting interesting.
“Very well.” Georgina also stood up and collected her coat, draping it over her arm. “Allow me to see you safely there.”
“That is unnecessary,” Elizabeth assured her, but Georgina placed her hand on the small of her back and propelled her towards the exit.
“Unnecessary, perhaps. But I would not sleep easy unless I knew you were settled safely at home. You would not deprive me of a good night’s sleep?” Georgina grinned, parroting Elizabeth’s words from the first night they met. “And besides that, I must be up in time to make our appointment.”
Georgina bade Mem Lavigne a pleasant evening and looked around for Lottie, an apologetic smile ready on her lips.
But the young woman seemed unbothered. She lounged in a most luxurious high-backed velvet armchair while a handsome lorian with sinewy arms knelt in front of her, happily massaging her feet.
Lottie simpered at Georgina, who gave a small wave and escorted Elizabeth downstairs.